The car that put motoring on the map

Press, 15 April 1978, Page 16

The car that put motoring on the map

DOUG McCLURE

recalls the golden days of motoring—and the car that made the gold

I have just been examning and riding in a 1914 Model T Ford roadster. Can you remember? Are you old enough to have lived in the days of Ford’s Model T — the car that put motoring on the map for every man? I am among the older hands who struggled with a 1914 T tourer’s oil and gas lamps, frequent punctures in tyres on undetachable rims, and the high pressure of Ford’s unique epicyclic gear-box.

The few Model Ts on the road in 1908 mounted to a total production output for the series of nearly 14,000,000. Americans paid as little as £348 for their tourer in 1922, when the dollar was valued at just over four shillings. In New Zealand, the price was about £l6O in the twenties.

Mr Henry Bush, of Auckland, owns New Zealand’s finest Model T. It is worth perhaps $13,000. It has won three concours, and is the product of years of panelbeating, searching for parts (this required a trip to the United States), and intricate rebuilding of both

body and mechanical components. It is faithfully restored, with the exception of one or two permitted variations. Even the spokes were specially made to the original oval shape. Shunning electrics, Mr Bush uses the original type Of acetylene headlamp (with the lamps rebuilt in brass from the original fragments) and oil side-lamps. Ever tried lighting these on a windy night? The acetylene comes from a gas accumulator on the runningboard. Older readers will remember bicycle lamps of this type, with lumps of calcium carbide and water dripping on to them. A popular prank of those days was to pop pieces of carbide into school-desk inkwells, and wait for the smell. The running boards (“steps”) are reconstructed in the old diamond ribbing. The mudguards are fiat-topped. The screen, lording it above the bonnet, is angled at the bottom and vertical in its top sections. This particular screen was found in the United States and was

brought back, cut in sections for easy carrying, then re-welded. The thick steering wheel tops a column which thrusts upward from the floor but has a brace added — not an original fitting but a needed one — to reach toward the high, high, pleated seat. I remember polishing the leather, many decades ago, with dubbin. (Can you recall dubbin?). All in all, the car stands at 6ft Ilin. You don’t see around corners; you see over them. The “one-man” hood (a plausible phrase of former years) folds down, to be strapped in a bracket., The bulb horn gives due notice of the car’s coming My earliest one had an additional whistle mounted, pipeorgan style, on the exhaust pipe. You sit high, and side support is meagre. Before 1914 there were no front doors, simply a gap. Driving the Model T was baffling to a newcomer but simple to those familiar with the car. It started on a coil and was then switched to magneto. The ride was rough on poor road surfaces. High-

pressure tyres, 30 inches x 3J, bounced mercilessly on corrugations and potholes and the springs — simple transverse ones of seven leaves on the roadster and nine on the heavier tourer — did not cushion things much. On modern, smooth roads the ride is quite good. Some, wanting luxury, fitted 29 x 4.40 tyres. The foot brake (on the propeller shaft) was reasonably powerful by standards of the times but the hand-brake was pitiful. It had small cast-iron shoes; some connoisseurs changed to soft linings to get a better hold but most T owners had a brick or block of wood aboard to prevent the beast from careering off when parked on downhill slopes. The front axle was positioned by radius rods, a scheme continued on most Fords, which also had transverse springs, VBs and all, until 1949. The T’s wheelbase was a neat 100-inches, The turning circle was not tight —nearly 38 feet. Fuel came through a Holley carburettor, high

above the water levels often encountered when fording streams on early undeveloped routes or on farms. Ford had a magnificent system of altering the mixture by a knurled knob on the dash — so much better than a choke rod on a spring, although there was an additional choke for cranking the thing into life in cold weather.

Fuel was less volatile in those days but had plenty of calorific value and the light Ford, weighing about 1400 lb, would do 30 m.p.g. if driven fairly slowly, a bit more if you really tried, and usually above 25; this is in spite of the inefficient combustion of a low compression motor typical of earlier years.

Lubrication was another matter. There was the engine oil to start with, the height level being found by crawling underneath and testing the drip from two taps at different heights on the sump. There were six grease

cups and 12 oil points to attend to every 200 miles;, front hubs to lubricate every 500 miles, a “diff” to pack with H lb of grease at the same intervals, and steering gear which went for months without re-packing. Engine oil was usually about 15 to 20 SAE but Mr Bush prefers a modern straight 10. Incidentally, if some enthusiast put graphite in the oil to smooth things along, that shorted the magnetos which were built into the flywheel, one of Ford’s ingenious inventions.

All in all, the Model T was a bright affair and reflected Henry Ford’s genius. I saw, at Dearborn, his photo and motto on the wall — “One foot in the factory and one on the soil keeps America great.” The proportion has altered.

There was astonishingly little change in chassis and engine design throughout the T’s life. Only in its last year did the petrol tank move from under the seat to the

cowl, over the engine. Until then, if you struck a steep hill with a low tank, the carburettor was above the level of the fuel, and the motor died.

They were great days, but few of us would like them to return. It was fun to adventure in a T in days when travel was infrequent and inconvenient. It is still fun in a model T — but only for outings and special occasions. Life is geared to speed and comfort, and we would take it hard if our total motoring were restricted to the limitations of the old-time car.

Mr Bush, however, has just taken his old roadster land and over the North right round the South IsIsland, too, winning three cups on the way. He is in the process — a long and luxurious one —of rebuilding a 1914 Raceabout, Raceabouts were conversions in which more liberties in body design were taken. But the essentials will be faithfully guarded. |